


this world is not made for you (run boy, run)

by sh_rkboy



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Coming Out, Gen, Post-Apocalypse, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, This should be a real tag, Time Travel, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy), anyway five is an awesome character and aidan gallagher does a great job portraying him, reginald hargreeves does not deserve rights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-10-31 23:08:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17858798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sh_rkboy/pseuds/sh_rkboy
Summary: Five is the only one of them not given a name.  And that suits him just fine.  In fact, he specifically requests it.





	this world is not made for you (run boy, run)

**Author's Note:**

> can i get a yeehaw for trans boy number five
> 
> title from the song "run boy run" by woodkid, also the song in ep 2 of tua! and the title of ep 2 of tua! that soundtrack SLAPS

There’s a pervasive itch that lives underneath his skin that he’s never quite been able to scratch, this idea that something is wrong, something he can’t quite explain, something just out of his grasp. It’s been there all his life, and it makes itself known whenever they call him “she” and “sister” despite him finding it strange that he actually prefers to be called a number over those words—but he doesn’t know what it is. He doesn’t know what it means.

And Five hates not knowing.

So he goes where he feels the most comfortable—the library—and does some digging. After a few days of searching, he finds it. A single word, three syllables to describe the discontent he feels deep in his bones. He finds it, and it lifts a weight off of his shoulders.

But he doesn’t say it out loud. He finds that he can’t, at least not yet. Because who would understand? He barely knows what this is, and he’s the smart one out of his siblings, after all. The only one who might understand is Four, who regularly violates gender norms, who steals Three’s and Seven’s skirts when he thinks no one is watching, who just recently broke his jaw after a nasty fall down the stairs while wearing Mom’s high heels. But Five doesn’t want to tell Four, because Four can’t keep his mouth shut for anything, and his brother might out him. So he keeps it to himself. At least until he has a plan of action, he tells himself. But he does trade out the skirt that always seemed to chafe against his legs for a pair of shorts, like the other boys. And the next time he’s allowed to have a haircut, he specifically requests that they cut it short. Dad gives him a look like he knows something, but doesn’t say anything. And life continues on.

But eventually, Dad forces his hand.

One day, after their twelfth birthday, Dad gathers the six of them right outside his study, Seven watching from behind the stairwell, alone, as usual. She looks sad, Five notes, quickly resolving to make her a peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich afterward. As much as he doesn’t like his siblings, he does love them, especially Seven, who is so, so quiet, and listens so attentively when he needs it.

The order to Mom brings Five’s attention back to Dad. “Name the children,” he demands. “They’re going to be interviewed, in the public eye, very soon,” the man comments, dismissively. Dad makes to leave the room, but then pauses in his tracks, and turns back to Mom. “Name the six of them,” he clarifies, and Five watches Seven’s face fall out of the corner of his eye. Well, that won’t do, Five thinks. It’ll just have to be two peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches, then.

But later, during training, Five thinks a bit more. And he realizes that this presents a problem for him, too. Mom, he realizes, is going to pick a girl’s name for him. She doesn’t know better.

He hums to himself, distracted by his own thoughts. Two gives him a strange look, but he ignores it. He needs a solution. And, as he runs up the stairs and teleports past One and the others, he finds it.

After training ends, and Five has had dinner and showered and climbed into bed for the night, Mom walks by with a soft, tender smile and tucks him into bed like she does for all of them. He wonders how much of her is truly capable of feeling, but does not ask. What he does manage to blurt out, however, is this: “I don’t want a name.”

Mom blinks once, twice, then gives him the approximation of a confused smile. “Your father wants me to name the six of you.”

Five nods once, heart pounding in his chest. “Well, yes, but. Dad technically didn’t say which six of us he wanted you to name,” he says. God, why is he so nervous? “You should pick a name for Seven, instead of me. I don’t want a name. I just want to be Five.”

Mom stares at him for a moment, both hands gently pressed against the blanket covering him.

“Is that okay?” he asks cautiously, fingers twitching underneath the covers.

Mom breaks out into a placid smile. “Of course it is, Five,” she says softly, leaning forward to give him a kiss on the forehead before standing up straight. “Good night, dear,” she says to him, and he says his “goodnight” in return.

As she makes to leave, however, Five stops her. “What…” he starts to ask, biting his lip. “What were you thinking about naming me?”

Mom looks at him. “I liked Dolores,” she says, and he snorts, a little bit. Yeah. He’s definitely not a Dolores.

The next day, at breakfast, Mom tells everybody their names, and Five watches Seven—now Vanya, he is pleased to learn—as her face lights up, her eyes wide. Mom picked a name out just for her, instead of repurposing a name meant for Five, and it makes him smile, just a little bit.

“And what about Number Five?” Dad asks, looking at him, eyes narrowed.

“I don’t need a name,” Five says quietly, setting down his fork, stomach churning with anxiety.

Dad hums thoughtfully, and then goes back to his meal without a word, and Five lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. For the rest of breakfast, Five thinks he’s in the clear, but when everyone is done with their meal, Dad tells him to stay behind after the rest of his siblings trickle out of the dining room, preparing for their studies.

Five stands in front of Dad, shaking hands clasped behind his back.

“Why didn’t you want a name?” Dad inquires.

Five takes in a deep breath, feeling impossibly small. “I’m a boy,” he finally says, swallowing. He watches Dad’s eyebrows raise infinitesimally. “Mom would’ve given me a girl’s name. But I’m fine being Five.”

Dad hums again in acknowledgement, eyeing the twelve-year-old boy in front of him. “You’re a boy,” the man repeats, voice flat. “Well, we’ll have to tell your siblings before the interview, I suppose.” Then, Dad turns and walks away, leaving Five to stand there, eyes wide and in shock. He never thought it would be that—easy.

But of course, Five is the smart one. And he thinks and he thinks, and then he realizes that if he had waited until after the interview to tell Dad, then it wouldn’t have been easy like this at all. Dad doesn’t care that he’s transgender, or even about him, not that that's a surprise, Five realizes, suddenly inexplicably angry even in the face of his victory. Dad cares how they look in the public eye, and Five knows that it’s easier for Dad if Five’s always been a boy, from the moment they went public, than for him to come out later as a transgender boy.

Five’s fists clench, but he says nothing and goes to training just as he is supposed to. He is the smart one, after all. He knows when to take the win.

At the end of the day, after they have all been tucked into bed, Five lies awake, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. His door creaks open. “You didn’t have to do that for me, you know,” Vanya says softly in the doorway, so quietly Five almost doesn’t hear it, lost in his bitterness. He turns on his side to look at her as she slips inside, shutting the door behind her near-silently. “You didn’t have to give up your name just because of me.”

Five stares at her, and he sighs. “Mom wanted to name me Dolores,” he tells her, laughing a bit. “Vanya’s all your own name.” Vanya frowns, confused. “I’m a boy,” he says to her. “I really didn’t want Mom to name me.”

“A boy?” she repeats, and he nods. “Okay,” she says quietly, and he smiles at her easy acceptance and sits up in bed, taking her hand.

“Want to sneak down and make peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches?” he asks her, and she smiles.

A year passes by, relatively normal, at least for them. One day, however, Five does something not so smart. Despite Dad’s warnings, he jumps into the future—after all, he’s the smart one, right? He can handle it.

What he finds in the future horrifies him. But the worst part of being alive after the apocalypse is the loneliness. So when he finds a mannequin a month later in the wreckage, he picks her up and carries her along with him.

“How’re you doing?” he asks her, laughing at the absurdity of it all. “Yeah, well. Me too. You know, you seem a lot like a Dolores,” he says to her, smiling.

And with her by his side, he realizes, he doesn’t feel so lonely after all.

**Author's Note:**

> didn't write fic for years but as soon as i watched the umbrella academy i all of a sudden have the audacity to post two fics in a day
> 
> anyway please enjoy

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [hey boy (stay off)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17934839) by [raspberrywildfire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raspberrywildfire/pseuds/raspberrywildfire)




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